Name
by DerringerMeryl87
Summary: Oneshot Zutara! first chapter is a regular fanfic, the second is the same story as a song fic. i do not own avatar or name.
1. Regular Fic

Even after all these weeks, her necklace smelled faintly of smoke and gunpowder. When they all rode Appa, or anytime they were moving at all, she couldn't smell it. But when she sat still and the wind stopped she could always catch a faint whiff of him. She had long since filed away that burnt smell as his. That night she had accidentally run into his trap had probably caused this. When he caught her by her wrists and stuck his face in hers she had fought hard not to choke, the smell was so overpowering. Also, she knew her look had failed to be contemptuous and had probably leaned more strongly towards awe. He may have been evil, corrupted, and murderous, but she was a girl, and denying his good looks had been beyond her ability.

She didn't voice these thoughts aloud, but hadn't been able to keep from admitting them to herself. Even the scar he carried enhanced his fiery beauty, making him stronger, older somehow. These thoughts tumbled around her mind as she lay quietly in her sleeping roll. She knew it was late because the fire had died down, but the wind had died as well. There on the ground, sheltered from all movement, the scent from the necklace clogged her senses. Shaking his picture from her mind, she quietly kicked off her blankets.

The summer night was hot and a swim would do her some good. There was a stream a few kilometers north of their camp. Tomorrow would be a day of straight flying, and the others could handle that without her help if she slept all day. It wouldn't hurt for her to take a visit to the stream.

* * *

Zuko heard her before he saw her. The splashing coming from the stream was harsher than it should have been for such a gentle current. He had come to the stream in hopes of some peace and quiet. His scar had been throbbing all afternoon. After he and his uncle had stopped for the night, Iroh's snores had filled the clearing and his throbbing head had escalated into a full out headache. He had decided to walk back south along the path to the stream when all his other plans to sooth his throbbing head failed.

Long ago he had found that cool water eased the pain, though hardly nothing could stop it entirely. His scar had often throbbed. Not so much now that it was fully healed, but still sometimes. There were other difficulties that came with the scar. His hearing in his left ear was reduced to almost nothing, but he had tried to train his right ear to hear even better. Either way, his hearing was fine tonight, and it was relief from pain that he was seeking.

The waterbender was standing at waterside. She seemed to be getting undressed, though not completely. She was wearing only her undergarments. He couldn't blame her. The night was hot, and she looked as if she planned to go swimming. The idea of wearing soaking wet clothes in this weather made him shudder a little. True, he was no longer a pampered prince, and even if he was he could've withstood the discomfort. But, if it could be avoided...

As he watched, she unbound her hair. It fell gracefully and clung slightly to her shoulders that were damp with the sweat she had worked up during her jog to the stream. He thought for a moment of turning back, but at that moment he suffered a particularly painful throb. With only a moment longer's hesistation, he stepped forward to cross the last few meters of trees before he emerged on the streambank.

* * *

The wind, which had lain so quiet in the clearing amidst the trees, began to pick up, bringing with it a whiff of gunpowder. Immediately, Katara's right hand flew to the flask of water at her side and her left flew to the small silver dagger tucked into a useful pocket of her undergarments. Of course, the knife was completely useless if the trespasser was who she suspected it to be. However, in the years before she had mastered the art of waterbending, Katara had needed some type of defense. Her hand flew to the knife out of instinct only. Should any real danger present itself, she would drop the knife and use both hands for waterbending.

"Please, stop. I haven't come to fight anyone. A truce for tonight?" The voice came from the same direction as the wind, confirming both fear and tiny hope.

"Why should I believe you?"

"You shouldn't." Zuko emerged from the woods already in his swimming attire. "You can leave if you want, but I have need of the stream tonight."

Katara knew the rational emotion here would be fear. But instead she felt a little enraged. Why should he get the stream? She had been here first, after all. She tried to focus on her rage and not the muscles in his chest, but to no avail. "A truce, you say?"

"Yes. It ends tonight when we leave the water's edge. I do not mind sharing. However, chasing the avatar is out of my abilities tonight. My head hurts."

Katara fought a mad desire to laugh. She walked over to where he had deposited himself in the shallows of the bank and sat down herself. "So, even the mighty Fire Prince feels pain?"

Zuko gave a laugh with no humor behind it. He regretted it instantly as pain shot through his skull. "A Fire Prince always feels pain."

Katara hesitated a moment then stood up suddenly, rushed into the deep part of the stream, and turned to face him. "Come on," she said, suddenly making up her mind, while pulling her hair back again.

Zuko looked skeptical, "Why?"

"I'm gonna make your head feel better. Come on." The stream was wide here and the current was almost nonexistant. Swimming was fairly easy, even in the deepest part. Katar thought, judging from the sound, that not far ahead the stream narrowed and the current picked up. Zuko still seemed to be uncertain as he came to stand beside her where the water reached her waist. "Get down, where the water is up to your neck," Katara said with more authority than she had originally felt. Now that she was here, in her element, she was much more at ease.

Zuko really seemed to be at a truce tonight. He lowered himself into the water, and she did the same. She raised her hands and tried to place her thumbs at his temples. Immediately she felt him jerk away. He had stood up completely and almost turned to go before he caught the look of bewilderment on her face.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "You caught me unaware." He lowered himself back into the water, but remained tense.

"Relax," Katara told him soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

The skeptical look was on Zuko's face again. "What are you going to do?"

"Try and heal you, of course."

"Scars this old don't just go away," he told her.

"I know that, Zuko." His eyes widened a little. He hadn't expected her to use his name so casually. Even his uncle called him Prince, but the waterbender just kept talking as though she didn't realize what she had just done. "I know I can't possibly heal that scar, but maybe I could lessen the pain."

"Hah," he uttered a short bitter laugh, "Here you are helping me, and I'm not even sure of your name."

"Don't worry about it," Katara said, missing the unspoken question. He lowered himself back down to her level in the water to let her try again.

She rested her thumbs lightly against his shoulders this time, trying to concentrate on her task. It was harder than usual. The cool smell that usually filled her nostrils when she was waterbending was replaced by the smoky smell emanating from the figure in front of her. She felt deep in herself for the coolness that came with the water. It washed over her, eliminating all the heat she felt except for the warm spots where her thumbs touched Zuko's smooth shoulders. She directed all the water there.

She opened her eyes to observe her progress. Water from all over the stream had moved forward to gather around his head, and even as she watched, it rose over his head, leaving only a hole for him to breathe through. Feeling her way carefully through the contact she maintained with him, Katara felt Zuko's pain. The closer she inspected the pain, the more strongly she felt it, a burning, ragged hole. She pushed the water there to cool it.

In that instant the water closed over Zuko's head, and even as he spluttered over his breath of water, he leaned forward and stood up to catch her as she fainted. Heart beating fast, he pulled her to the bank and lay her gently on he rocky shore. After a few minutes where Zuko stood worriedly beside her, she opened her eyes.

"Did it help?" she asked quietly. Zuko seemed angry.

"What were you thinking? Overdoing it like that! You could have died! Easily! How would it look if, on the one night I call a truce, you ended up dead? Even princes have problems hiding murder records when they can't hide them amongst casualties of war! Especially those who are not entirely in posession of their father's favor" He broke off as she spoke, relieved to hear her voice a little stronger than the moment before.

"I'm sorry. I underestimated your pain. The wound was so very big, but it looked small. I'll be fine. Look, the moon is shining. At least I didn't waste all of that power in vain. You look much better."

Zuko collapsed in a heap beside her. "Thanks," he responded after several deep sighs.

Katara sat up beside him. "Care for a swim?"

"You really do recover fast, don't you."

She smiled brightly, white teeth shining in the moonlight, "Always." Before entering the stream again, she paused to let her hair down.

"Your hair looks better down," Zuko told her, looking the other way as he stood.

"It's easier to keep under control if its tied back, though," she told him brushing off the compliment. Zuko tried to keep the hurt off his face, while Katara attempted to resist the shivers that threatened to consume her.

He was good looking, yes, but she? No, of course not. In fact, she was quite sure that the only reason for Aang's crush on her, was because she was the only female in the group. Maybe Toph would change that now. Zuko was already in the water when she finished fumbling with her hair. She could sense the tension mounting over who would say what next.

She panicked and jumped into the water cannonball style, and, to her surprise, Zuko was laughing when she emerged. She splashed him playfully, and he returned the favor. Most of his look of humor faltered, however, when Katara conjured a veritable tsunami behind him.

* * *

The wind was up now and the night was much colder than it had been earlier. They lay drying off on the rocky beach a little less than an arm's length apart. A gust of cool wind blew, cold upon Katara's bare shoulders, still wet from the swim. With a soft whoosh Zuko's shirt fluttered over her. She didn't look over at him as she thanked him.

"It's the least I can do. You helped me even though I put you and your friends in danger every day."

Katara did look at him then, "Why do you do it? Aang's never done anything to you."

"A prince is nothing without his honor. I'm exiled until I return with the Avatar. At least I am missing the war, for the most part."

Katara shivered again, but not from the cold. Not for the first time, she wondered if Zuko had slipped up on purpose when pursuing them. Had they ever really won against him? She shuddered to think that maybe they weren't as strong as they believed. "What would have happened if the Avatar hadn't returned while you were exiled?"

Zuko shrugged, "I would have stayed in exile forever. Father has no mercy, and my sister Azula is, if anything, worse."

"How did you get your scar, Zuko?" She hadn't meant to ask it, it just sort of slipped out, and she had wanted to know for so long. She bit her lip, waiting to see if he would answer.

Stiffening visibly, he thought inwardly about what to say. He decided simplicity would be best, "I questioned my father on his military tactics."

"That's awful!" Katara said, angrily. "What a monster! And to his own child!"

"It's okay, really," he said in his best attempt at a quiet soothing voice. It really was very soothing, like a warm fire on a cold night, thought Katara. Although, maybe I am being too romantic. His pale eyes reflecting the cloudy sky, flashing silver, said that it was not really okay.

He lay on her right, so she had a perfect view of the scar. It was flame-shaped, so there was no doubting what methods of punishment his father had used. Without thinking, she reached out towards it.

"Don't." Zuko had closed his eyes in anticipation of her touch. He made no move to stop her, but it was obvious from his voice that he was serious about not wanting her to touch it.

"I won't," she answered kindly. She stopped a few inches from his face, palm to him, fingers outspread. The scar radiated it's own heat, and, in contrast to the rest of her body, for that moment her hand was bathed in warmth.

"It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"Not now. You solved that earlier."

"I couldn't just let you hurt."

"I'm glad to know that. I wonder if I would have done the same."

Katara looked quietly up at the sky. Clouds were gathering, but their arrival had been foreshadowed by the cold wind. It was a good thing that she had tried healing Zuko earlier. If she had exerted that much power during the day or when the moon was covered, she might not have been able to walk for days. Without the stars and moon to go by, she could only guess at the time, but surely dawn was near. "I need to go," she told him. "The others will be waking up and wondering where I am."

Zuko nodded once then looked at her where she still stood uncertainly. "Well, what are you waiting for? I won't follow you to your camp."

"Oh, I know. I believe you, I mean." She held out her hand to him as he stood as well. "It was great to meet you for real, Prince Zuko. Though, it will probably be the only time we spend together, I have enjoyed it immensely! How's that for speaking to a prince?"

"Oh, speak to me however you want, but I still don't know your name!"

"Do you really need to know it?" she asked him, smiling.

"I'd like to, yes."

Katara had by now dropped her hand, as he seemed to take no interest in shaking it. To her, he looked very silly standing there half naked in the cold. The wind blew furiously at what little hair he had. She raised the hand she had just dropped and beckoned him toward her. He leaned down until his face was only a few inches from her, then she rose to her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear. Overcome by his closeness however she cut her mission short. With daring she hadn't known she posessed, she kissed him on the cheek and stepped back laughing a little.

Zuko's face flushed, and, for a moment, Katara thought he was really angry.

"Katara," she said, hoping to stop his spluttering. "My name's Katara."

Zuko still looked as if he'd been slapped in the face, but after a moment he regained his composure. "Well, Katara. It has been a nice evening. I thank you heartily for all that you've done. How's that for a princely response?" He raised his own hand this time, and Katara gripped it smiling.

"Perfect." She looked at him awkwardly for a moment, "Well, goodbye then!"

She turned to go as she dropped his hand, but turned back when he didn't release his grip.

His eyes were gold when he spoke to her, "Katara, I really meant it when is said thank you."

"I'm glad."

Without a word of warning he pulled her to him and embraced her tightly. "After I leave, tonight won't exist anymore will it?" she asked from her new vantage point next to his bare chest. She could hear the beating of his heart, and was now fairly positive that the gunpowder smell came from his skin and not his clothes.

After hesitating a moment he answered her, "No, it won't. It will be like it never happened."

"Oh, don't say that. We both know it happened, we'll just pretend it didn't and it won't happen again. Okay?" Zuko nodded and dropped his arms. He stared at the ground as she left, not watching her go or even saying goodbye again.

* * *

Even after leaving his arms and reaching the camp, Katara could feel his warmth still clinging to her. His smell stayed close as well, and it wasn't until she had climbed back into her bed that she realized she had forgotten to give him his shirt back.

Oh well, she thought. Now she would have an excuse to speak to him again. Her heart beat rapidly for the rest of the night and she fell asleep only when they had all mounted Appa the next morning.

She slept all day long and missed several conversations that might had made her laugh uneasily. Like the time Toph asked the others if they could smell gunpowder.

"That's just your upper lip," Sokka told her, marveling at his own wit. "Where'd that shirt Katara's wearing come from?" Sokka asked, some time later. "It doesn't look like her usual one does it?"

"How should I know? Surely the great Sokka isn't color blind?" Sokka's face fell with the sound of Aang's laughter. Toph had won again.

* * *

When she left him, the night seemed to become hot again. Her cool presence was gone. He didn't miss his shirt until noon the next day when his uncle asked him about it.

"Prince Zuko, did you not wear a shirt when you left the camp last night? Why did you return home without it. All vain men take off their shirts around young ladies, but only the wise ones keep their head enough to put them back on."

Zuko's eyes had widened at first, but were now reduced to their usual size. "Drink your tea, Uncle," he said enigmatically. "Isn't that why you made it."

His uncle laughed heartily and began to hum. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be stupid enough to try to return it to him. Last night truly had been a one time thing. He really did have to catch the Avatar. No matter what his conscience told him, and no matter what hints his uncle dropped, his becoming FireLord rested on this.

But she had healed him. Surely, at least one more time, he could risk seeing her. It would hurt nothing he thought. But he would wait awhile. Too many visits too close together might be unwise. He would want to see her too much. Maybe, in time she wouldn't care if she saw him again. He hoped that was the case. But a part of him would always think of her, and not just because she had healed him.

Zuko smiled a little as he sipped the tea his uncle had made. It was around this time that Iroh had broke out into song and Zuko recognized the tune.

"Why are you humming that song?" he yelled, irritated.

"Because, Prince Zuko. When a young man is in love, you should celebrate. Now, what is your young lady's name?"

Zuko shook his head. It had taken him long enough to learn it. Even if it was his only souvenier of their night, he was keeping _that_ to himself.

* * *

**A/N: Chronologically, I haven't the slightest clue where this scene comes in. Some time after Toph and before Ba-Sing-Se. This is only a one-shot so i'm not that _very_ upset with the fact that they are DRASTICALLY out of character. Zuko was not so off for the whole story. Some of the lines I gave him I could actually hear him say, but I can't ever see him playing in a splash fight like a little kid, so all of his in-character-ness was canceled out right there. Katara on the other hand missed the mark completely. However, in the ends of each of their stories, I thought Sokka, Toph, and Iroh were fairly in character. No matter, this scenario played in my head for a while and i felt it had to be written, it was just hard for me to run them through the scene I saw and at the same time make them really be them. Oh well. Not a complete failure I don't think. I couldn't decide if i liked it better as a song-fic or not, so the second chapter includes a song.**


	2. Song Fic

_**And even though the moment passed me by **_

_**I still can't turn away **_

_**I saw the dreams you never thought you'd lose **_

_**tossed along the way **_

_**And letters that you never meant to send **_

_**lost or thrown away**_

Even after all these weeks, her necklace smelled faintly of smoke and gunpowder. When they all rode Appa, or anytime they were moving at all, she couldn't smell it. But when she sat still and the wind stopped she could always catch a faint whiff of him. She had long since filed away that burnt smell as his. That night she had accidentally run into his trap had probably caused this. When he caught her by her wrists and stuck his face in hers she had fought hard not to choke, the smell was so overpowering. Also, she knew her look had failed to be contemptuous and had probably leaned more strongly towards awe. He may have been evil, corrupted, and murderous, but she was a girl, and denying his good looks had been beyond her ability.

She didn't voice these thoughts aloud, but hadn't been able to keep from admitting them to herself. Even the scar he carried enhanced his fiery beauty, making him stronger, older somehow. These thoughts tumbled around her mind as she lay quietly in her sleeping roll. She knew it was late because the fire had died down, but the wind had died as well. There on the ground, sheltered from all movement, the scent from the necklace clogged her senses. Shaking his picture from her mind, she quietly kicked off her blankets.

The summer night was hot and a swim would do her some good. There was a stream a few kilometers north of their camp. Tomorrow would be a day of straight flying, and the others could handle that without her help. It wouldn't hurt for her to take a visit to the stream.

_**Scars are souvenirs you never lose **_

_**The past is never far **_

_**Did you lose yourself somewhere out there **_

_**Did you get to be a star **_

_**And don't it make you sad to know that life I**_

_**s more than who we are**_

Zuko heard her before he saw her. The splashing coming from the stream was harsher than it should have been for such a gentle current. He had come to the stream in hopes of some peace and quiet. His scar had been throbbing all afternoon. After he and his uncle had stopped for the night, Iroh's snores had filled the clearing and his throbbing head had escalated into a full out headache. He had decided to walk back south along the path to the stream when all his other plans to sooth his throbbing head failed.

Long ago he had found that cool water eased the pain, though hardly nothing could stop it entirely. His scar had often throbbed. Not so much now that it was fully healed, but still sometimes. There were other difficulties that came with the scar. His hearing in his left ear was reduced to almost nothing, but he had tried to train his right ear to hear even better. Either way, his hearing was fine tonight, and it was relief from pain that he was seeking.

The waterbender was standing at waterside. She seemed to be getting undressed, though not completely. She was wearing only her undergarments. He couldn't blame her. The night was hot, and she looked as if she planned to go swimming. The idea of wearing soaking wet clothes in this weather made him shudder a little. True, he was no longer a pampered prince, and even if he was he could've withstood the discomfort. But, if it could be avoided...

As he watched, she unbound her hair. It fell gracefully and clung slightly to her shoulders that were damp with the sweat she had worked up during her jog to the stream. He thought for a moment of turning back, but at that moment he suffered a particularly painful throb. With only a moment longer's hesistation, he stepped forward to cross the last few meters of trees before he emerged on the streambank.

_**And now we're grown up orphans **_

_**That never knew their names **_

_**We don't belong to no one **_

_**That's a shame **_

_**you could hide beside me **_

_**Maybe for a while **_

_**And I won't tell no one your name **_

_**I won't tell 'em your name**_

The wind, which had lain so quiet in the clearing amidst the trees, began to pick up, bringing with it a whiff of gunpowder. Immediately, Katara's right hand flew to the flask of water at her side and her left flew to the small silver dagger tucked into a useful pocket of her undergarments. Of course, the knife was completely useless if the trespasser was who she suspected it to be. However, in the years before she had mastered the art of waterbending, Katara had needed some type of defense. Her hand flew to the knife out of instinct only. Should any real danger present itself, she would drop the knife and use both hands for waterbending.

"Please, stop. I haven't come to fight anyone. A truce for tonight?" The voice came from the same direction as the wind, confirming both fear and tiny hope.

"Why should I believe you?"

"You shouldn't." Zuko emerged from the woods already in his swimming attire. "You can leave if you want, but I have need of the stream tonight."

Katara knew the rational emotion here would be fear. But instead she felt a little enraged. Why should he get the stream? She had been here first, after all. She tried to focus on her rage and not the muscles in his chest, but to no avail. "A truce, you say?"

"Yes. It ends tonight when we leave the water's edge. I do not mind sharing. However, chasing the avatar is out of my abilities tonight. My head hurts."

Katara fought a mad desire to laugh. She walked over to where he had deposited himself in the shallows of the bank and sat down herself. "So, even the mighty Fire Prince feels pain?"

Zuko gave a laugh with no humor behind it. He regretted it instantly as pain shot through his skull. "A Fire Prince always feels pain."

Katara hesitated a moment then stood up suddenly, rushed into the deep part of the stream, and turned to face him. "Come on," she said decidedly, while pulling her hair back again.

Zuko looked skeptical, "Why?"

"I'm gonna make your head feel better. Come on." The stream was wide here and the current was almost nonexistant. Swimming was fairly easy, even in the deepest part. Katar thought, judging from the sound, that not far ahead the stream narrowed and the current picked up. Zuko still seemed to be uncertain as he came to stand beside her where the water reached her waist. "Get down, where the water is up to your neck," Katara said with more authority than she had originally felt. Now that she was here, in her element, she was much more at ease.

Zuko really seemed to be at a truce tonight. He lowered himself into the water, and she did the same. She raised her hands and tried to place her thumbs at his temples. Immediately she felt him jerk away. He had stood up completely and almost turned to go before he caught the look of bewilderment on her face.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "You caught me unaware." He lowered himself back into th water, but remained tense.

"Relax," Katara told him soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

The skeptical look was on Zuko's face again. "What are you going to do?"

"Try and heal you, of course."

"Scars this old don't just go away," he told her.

"I know that, Zuko." His eyes widened a little. He hadn't expected her to use his name so casually. Even his uncle called him Prince, but the waterbender just kept talking as though she didn't realize what she had just done. "I know I can't possibly heal that scar, but maybe I could lessen the pain."

"Hah," he uttered a short bitter laugh, "Here you are helping me, and I'm not even sure of your name."

"Don't worry about it," Katara said, missing the unspoken question. He lowered himself back down to her level in the water to let her try again.

She rested her thumbs lightly against his shoulders this time, trying to concentrate on her task. It was harder than usual. The cool smell that usually filled her nostrils when she was waterbending was replaced by the smoky smell emanating from the figure in front of her. She felt deep in herself for the coolness that came with the water. It washed over her, eliminating all the heat she felt except for the warm spots where her thumbs touched Zuko's smooth shoulders. She directed all the water there.

She opened her eyes to observe her progress. Water from all over the stream had moved forward to gather around his head, and even as she watched, it rose over his head, leaving only a hole for him to breathe through. Feeling her way carefully through the contact she maintained with him, Katara felt Zuko's pain. The closer she inspected the pain, the more strongly she felt it, a burning, ragged hole. She pushed the water there to cool it.

In that instant the water closed over Zuko's head, and even as he spluttered over his breath of water, he leaned forward and stood up to catch her as she fainted. After a few minutes where Zuko stood worriedly beside her, she opened her eyes.

"Did it help?" she asked quietly. Zuko seemed angry.

"What were you thinking? Overdoing it like that! You could have died! Easily! How would it look if, on the one night I call a truce, you ended up dead? Even princes have problems hiding murder records when they can't hide them amongst casualties of war! Especially those who are not entirely in posession of their father's favor" He broke off as she spoke, relieved to hear her voice a little stronger than the moment before.

"I'm sorry. I underestimated your pain. The wound was so very big, but it looked small. I'll be fine. Look, the moon is shining. At least I didn't waste all of that power in vain. You look much better."

Zuko collapsed in a heap beside her. "Thanks," he responded after several deep sighs.

Katara sat up beside him. "Care for a swim?"

"You really do recover fast, don't you."

She smiled brightly, white teeth shining in the moonlight, "Always." Before entering the stream again, she paused to let her hair down.

"Your hair looks better down," Zuko told her, looking the other way as he stood.

"It's easier to keep under control if its tied back, though," she told him brushing off the compliment. Zuko tried to keep the hurt off his face, while Katara attempted to resist the shivers that threatened to consume her.

He was good looking, yes, but she? No, of course not. In fact, she was quite sure that the only reason for Aang's little boy crush on her, was because she was the only female in the group. Maybe Toph would change that now. Zuko was already in the water when she finished fumbling with her hair. She could sense the tension mounting over who would say what next.

She panicked and jumped into the water cannonball style, and, to her surprise, Zuko was laughing when she emerged. She splashed him playfully, and he returned the favor. Most of his look of humor faltered, however, when Katara conjured a veritable tsunami behind him.

_**You grew up way too fast **_

_**now there's nothing to believe **_

_**And reruns all become our history **_

_**A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio **_

_**And I won't tell no one your name **_

_**I won't tell 'em your name **_

The wind was colder now than it had been earlier. They lay drying off on the rocky beach a little less than an arm's length apart. A gust of cool wind blew, cold upon Katara's bare shoulders, still wet from the swim. With a soft whoosh Zuko's shirt fluttered over her. She didn't look over at him as she thanked him.

"It's the least I can do. You helped me even though I put you and your friends in danger every day."

Katara did look at him then, "Why do you do it? Aang's never done anything to you."

"A prince is nothing without his honor. I'm exiled until I return with the Avatar. At least I am missing the war, for the most part."

Katara shivered again, but not from the cold. Not for the first time, she wondered if Zuko had slipped up on purpose when pursuing them. Had they ever really won against him? She shuddered to think that maybe they weren't as strong as they believed. "What would have happened if the Avatar hadn't returned while you were exiled?"

Zuko shrugged, "I would have stayed in exile forever. Father has no mercy, and my sister Azula is, if anything, worse."

"How did you get your scar, Zuko?" She hadn't meant to ask it, it just sort of slipped out, and she had wanted to know for so long. She bit her lip, waiting to see if he would answer.

Stiffening visibly, he thought inwardly about what to say. He decided simplicity would be best, "I questioned my father on his military tactics."

"That's awful!" Katara said, angrily. "What a monster! And to his own child!"

"It's okay, really," he said in his best attempt at a quiet soothing voice. It really was very soothing, like a warm fire on a cold night, thought Katara. Although, maybe I am being too romantic. His pale eyes reflecting the cloudy sky, flashing silver, said that it was not really okay.

He lay on her right, so she had a perfect view of the scar. It was flame-shaped, so there was no doubting what methods of punishment his father had used. Without thinking, she reached out towards it.

"Don't." Zuko had closed his eyes in anticipation of her touch. He made no move to stop her, but it was obvious from his voice that he was serious about not wanting her to touch it.

"I won't," she answered kindly. She stopped a few inches from his face, palm to him, fingers outspread. The scar radiated it's own heat, and, in contrast to the rest of her body, for that moment her hand was bathed in warmth.

"It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"Not now. You solved that earlier."

"I couldn't just let you hurt."

"I'm glad to know that. I wonder if I would have done the same."

Katara looked quietly up at the sky. Clouds were gathering, but their arrival had been foreshadowed by the cold wind. It was a good thing that she had tried healing Zuko earlier. If she had exerted that much power during the day or when the moon was covered, she might not have been able to walk for days. Without the stars and moon to go by, she could only guess at the time, but surely dawn was near. "I need to go," she told him. "The others will be waking up and wondering where I am."

Zuko nodded once then looked at her where she still stood uncertainly. "Well, what are you waiting for? I won't follow you to your camp."

"Oh, I know. I believe you, I mean." She held out her hand to him as he stood as well. "It was great to meet you for real, Prince Zuko. Though, it will probably be the only time we spend together, I have enjoyed it immensely! How's that for speaking to a prince?"

"Oh, speak to me however you want, but I still don't know you're name!"

"Do you really need to know it?" she asked him, smiling.

"I'd like to, yes."

Katara had by now dropped her hand, as he seemed to take no interest in shaking it. To her, he looked very silly standing there half naked in the cold. The wind blew furiously at what little hair he had. She raised the hand she had just dropped and beckoned him toward her. He leaned down until his face was only a few inches from her, then she rose to her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear. Overcome by his closeness however she cut her mission short. With daring she hadn't known she posessed, she kissed him on the cheek and stepped back laughing a little.

Zuko's face flushed, and, for a moment, Katara thought he was really angry.

"Katara," she said, hoping to stop his spluttering. "My name's Katara."

Zuko still looked as if he'd been slapped in the face, but after a moment he regained his composure. "Well, Katara. It has been a nice evening. I thank you heartily for all that you've done. How's that for a princely response?" He raised his own hand this time, and Katara gripped it smiling.

"Perfect." She looked at him awkwardly for a moment, "Well, goodbye then!"

She turned to go as she dropped his hand, but turned back when he didn't release his grip.

His eyes were gold when he spoke to her, "Katara, I really meant it when is said thank you."

"I'm glad."

Without a word of warning he pulled her to him and embraced her tightly. "After I leave, tonight won't exist anymore will it?" she asked from her new vantage point next to his bare chest. She could hear the beating of his heart, and was now fairly positive that the gunpowder smell came from his skin and not his clothes.

After hesitating a moment he answered her, "No, it won't. It will be like it never happened."

"Oh, don't say that. We both know it happened, we'll just pretend it didn't and it won't happen again. Okay?" Zuko nodded and dropped his arms. He stared at the ground as she left, not watching her go or even saying goodbye again.

_**And now we're grown up orphans **_

_**That never knew their names **_

_**We don't belong to no one **_

_**That's a shame **_

Even after leaving his arms and reaching the camp, Katara could feel his warmth still clinging to her. His smell stayed close as well, and it wasn't until she had climbed back into her bed that she realized she had forgotten to give him his shirt back.

Oh well, she thought. Now she would have an excuse to speak to him again. Her heart beat rapidly for the rest of the night and she fell asleep only when they had all mounted Appa the next morning.

She slept all day long and missed several conversations that might had made her laugh uneasily. Like the time Toph asked the others if they could smell gunpowder.

"That's just your upper lip," Sokka told her, marveling at his own wit. "Where'd that shirt Katara's wearing come from?" Sokka asked, some time later. "It doesn't look like her usual one does it?"

"How should I know? Surely the great Sokka isn't color blind?" Sokka's face fell with the sound of Aang's laughter. Toph had won again.

_**But if you could hide beside me **_

_**Maybe for a while **_

_**And I won't tell no one your name **_

_**I won't tell 'em your name**_

When she left him, the night seemed to become hot again. Her cool presence was gone. He didn't miss his shirt until noon the next day when his uncle asked him about it.

"Prince Zuko, did you not wear a shirt when you left the camp last night? Why did you return home without it. All vain men take off their shirts around young ladies, but only the wise ones keep their head enough to put them back on."

Zuko's eyes had widened at first, but were now reduced to their usual size. "Drink your tea, Uncle," he said enigmatically. "Isn't that why you made it."

His uncle laughed heartily and began to hum. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be stupid enough to try to return it to him. Last night truly had been a one time thing. He really did have to catch the Avatar. No matter what his conscience told him, and no matter what hints his uncle dropped, his becoming FireLord rested on this.

But she had healed him. Surely, at least one more time, he could risk seeing her. It would hurt nothing he thought. But he would wait awhile. Too many visits too close together might be unwise. He would want to see her too much. Maybe, in time she wouldn't care if she saw him again. He hoped that was the case. But a part of him would always think of her, and not just because she had healed him.

Zuko smiled a little as he sipped the tea his uncle had made. It was around this time that Iroh had broke out into song and Zuko recognized the tune.

"Why are you humming that song?" he yelled, irritated.

"Because, Prince Zuko. When a young man is in love, you should celebrate. Now, what is your young lady's name?"

Zuko shook his head. It had taken him long enough to learn it. Even if it was his only souvenier of their night, he was keeping _that_ to himself.

_**I think about you all the time **_

_**But I don't need the same I**_

_**t's lonely where you are come back down **_

_**And I won't tell 'em your name**_

A/N: I don't know how well everyone will think the song goes. There were parts i thought fit perfectly and parts i didn't, but i love the song and it would've killed me to chop it up too much! anyway, enjoy! As always, comments and reviews are much appreciated!!


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